


Prove Your Justice

by 2MONKEY3



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Persona 5, Spirit Hunter: NG
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2MONKEY3/pseuds/2MONKEY3
Summary: When a band of nationalist thugs start extorting money from ethnic minority business owners in Tokyo, Tenko, Himiko, Ryuji and Makoto team up to take them down. Seiji Amenome also gets involved.Believe it or not, it was only after I wrote this that I found out Meiling Li is the name of a Cardcaptor Sakura character and a martial artist at that (never seen the show). Whether you read the character in the story as her or as my own truly epic OC (do not steal) is down to you.
Relationships: Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko
Kudos: 4





	Prove Your Justice

# PROVE YOUR JUSTICE

“I don’t care what anyone says,” said Makoto Nijima. ““Prove your justice” is a really awkward expression.”

“Excuse me?” said Ryuji Sakamoto. He lowered his binoculars for a moment and glanced over to the other end of the couch they were currently sharing. Makoto still had her binoculars raised to her eyes and was gazing earnestly out of the window opposite.  
“I mean, justice isn’t something an individual has. It’s a universal principle. Your standard of justice should be the same as mine, so how does it make any sense for me to try and prove my justice to you? It should be “prove you are just” or something like that.”  
Ryuji sighed. “Ugh, Makoto, you do realise we’re tryin’ to carry out surveillance here? You ain’t in your college philosophy class.” He lifted his own binoculars back to his eyes and returned to scanning the street below the empty apartment they had broken into an hour or so earlier.  
“I know that!” replied Makoto. She sounded slightly aggrieved. “I’m just trying to keep a conversation going, so we don’t get bored out of our minds doing this! We’ve already been here long enough.”  
“Well, I know that! I’m the one whose givin’ up their day off for this! But can’t we have a conversation about somethin’ freakin’ normal for a change, instead of this weird stuff?”

“Fine,” said Makoto, lowering her binoculars this time. “But what about? It’s not like I haven’t tried before. I asked about how things were going at work, and you said, “Oh, fine, you know...” and there was an awkward silence. I asked how your mother was getting on, and you said, “Oh, fine, you know...” and there was another awkward silence. So tell me, Ryuji, just what are we supposed to talk about on surveillance?”  
Ryuji shrugged. “I dunno...perhaps we should just keep quiet? Man, why do girls always gotta talk about stuff?”  
“No, that’s wrong...” began Makoto indignantly, only to be interrupted.  
“Yo! Hold on a sec! There’s our guy – that's Kobayashi!” Ryuji pointed towards the window. With the help of their binoculars, the pair could now see a tall, distinguished-looking man in a grey suit walking down the other side of the street. He was accompanied and surrounded by a group of other men, some of them noticeably burly and all wearing dark glasses.  
Makoto put her binoculars down and grabbed a long-lens camera, with which she rapidly began taking pictures.  
“Hold on,” she said. “Who are those kids sitting in the car on the corner? Wait, are they getting out and...OK, Ryuji, we need to get over there as fast as possible now! Come on, let's get my motorbike! You can ride on my pillion."  
"Hey, there ain't no way I'm gettin' on that thing with you ridin' it!"  
"What, can't you cope with a woman taking control, eh?"  
"What? No! Hey, Makoto, hold on a sec!" But she was half way down the stairs already.

“I guess we’ve still got a ways to go, huh?” ruminated Ryoma Hoshi.  
“Nyeh, it’s only a few hundred metres now,” replied Himiko Yumeno. The diminutive mage/Japanese literature student and the vertically-challenged tennis player/ex-convict were walking down a crowded Tokyo street towards the flat Himiko shared with her girlfriend, Tenko Chabashira.  
Ryoma, having been released from prison, was doing some courses at Himiko and Tenko's college to prepare him for his future life, but his recent history didn't exactly make it easy to make friends. He had, however, hit it off with Himiko (who had her own problems in that department). He had met Tenko briefly before, and was visiting today partly so they could be properly introduced.

It was a warm day in late spring and their progress was being hampered by the crowds of other pedestrians, who were so focused on window shopping that some of them were coming close to tripping over the pair.  
“Hey, sonny, why don’t you have some manners and look where you’re going!” grumbled one stick-brandishing oldster.  
“Sheesh, I could say the same to you, gramps!” responded Ryoma. “Ugh, I bet Roger Federer doesn’t have to put up with this kind of crap!”  
“It’s not worth getting upset, Ryoma,” said Himiko. “It’s just around the corner now...huh?”  
She was interrupted by a loud, high-pitched and drawn-out sound coming from the crowd in front of them, something like “WAAAAAAHHHH!!!” Then, before either of them could do or say anything, the crowd began to part like the Red Sea as panicked shoppers dived in all directions, dropping their precious purchases as they did, to dodge out of the way of some unstoppable oncoming force. It was a few seconds before Ryoma and Himiko could see a bright blue blur bursting through the mass of people, moving towards them at incredible speed.  
“Nyeh...is it Sonic?” asked Himiko.  
“No, look at the flying braids – it's Chabashira-san!” said Ryoma.  
Tenko ran up to them at full pelt, continuing to wail like a fire engine. Behind her, a trail of felled people were picking themselves and their shopping up and grumbling loudly.

“Oh my God, Tenko, what is it?” asked Himiko, grabbing Tenko’s arm.  
“WHAT IS IT? IT’S...IT’S TERRIBLE NEWS, HIMIKO, THAT’S WHAT IT IS!” yelled Tenko, at the top of her voice.  
“Chabashira-san, you have to calm down!” said Ryoma, in an alarmed tone. He noticed some of the shoppers Tenko had sent flying starting to advance on them menacingly. They weren’t quite carrying pitchforks and burning torches, but the mood was turning distinctly ugly. “I don’t think we should stick around here, guys.”  
“It’s...it’s Meiling’s dad!” stuttered Tenko. “He’s in the hospital! He was assaulted! Meiling just phoned to tell me – she's coming right over!”  
“Nyeh...WHAT?” cried Himiko.  
“OK - we can discuss this once we’re safely inside. Let’s move!” said Ryoma. Pursued by the shouts of angry shoppers, the three of them took to their heels.

Meiling Li was a Chinese girl studying at the same college as Tenko and Himiko, on the physical education course with Tenko. She was also about the only martial arts enthusiast in the place willing to take Neo-Aikido seriously when not in Tenko’s presence (everyone took it seriously in her presence – they'd seen what happened to those who didn’t). Unsurprisingly, that was the best way to win Tenko’s undying approval.

She arrived at the flat a few minutes after everyone else, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Tenko threw her arms around her and gave her a hug before she could even say "Hello." Then she manoeuvred Meiling on to a couch and made her a cup of tea, whilst everyone else fussed around trying to comfort her.  
"It's all so awful, Meiling!" said Tenko. "How's your Dad doing?"  
"He's bearing up. They want to keep him in hospital overnight, but he's not too badly hurt, thank God. Just cuts and bruises, mostly."  
"So what happened?" asked Himiko.  
"He was alone minding the till in our convenience store when three guys wearing suits and dark glasses came in. He says he thought they were customers, but before he could say anything, they announced they were from the League of the Sacred Mirror and they were collecting money for their organisation from all the local businesses. They called it a "patriotic contribution.""  
"That sounds like something the Yakuza would do! You know, like a protection racket," said Tenko.

Ryoma shook his head. "I'm not so sure, Chabashira-san. If you own a business in a Yakuza neighbourhood, you probably have a good idea exactly who you're supposed to pay money to. They don't just turn up out of the blue like that."  
"Well, either way," said Meiling. "When he told them he wasn't going to pay, they got annoyed, called him a dirty foreigner and anti-Japanese, swore at him a lot and then started hitting him." She clasped her hands together tightly, glaring angrily into the distance.  
"Oh my God! Those...those degenerate males!" stuttered Tenko.  
"They tried to make Dad open the till to get at the money. But, luckily for him, a couple of genuine customers came in at that moment and the thugs decided to make a run for it. They got clean away, too."  
"Did you report it to the police?" asked Himiko.  
"Yeah, Dad's been interviewed by a detective. But I'm not expecting much from them. You know, the police don't really make much of an effort to solve crimes against Chinese people. Just ask anyone in our community."  
"Nyeh...that really sucks, Meiling," said Himiko.  
"Sucks? It's worse than that. This is...unforgiveable!" declared Tenko, as dramatically as she could manage. "We have to do something about this, guys! We're going to find the men who did this and...bring them to justice!"

"Whoa there, hold on a second!" broke in Ryoma. "Sheesh, Chabashira-san, this is real life! A bunch of students can't just set out to right all the wrongs of the world! We aren't in a magical girl show, you know."  
Himiko pointed at him sternly. "Nyeh...as far as I'm concerned we are, Ryoma!"  
Ignoring her objection, Ryoma ploughed on:-  
"What are we going to do if we find these guys anyway? Beat them up?"  
"Well, yeah, honestly, that was my plan," replied Tenko.  
"It's just the last time I got involved in something like that, I ended up spending years in jail for it, and that kind of put me off the whole "vigilante justice" thing for life. Apart from anything else, I'm still on parole. We should leave this to the police."  
"I told you, that means nothing'll get done about it," said Meiling. "And these guys'll just go and do it again to someone else."  
"I'm not going to let that happen," said Tenko, grimly. "We'll do this with or without your help, Hoshi-san."  
Ryoma glanced around from face to face. He had heard enough of Tenko's reputation to realise she meant what she said. And Himiko would go along with her, if only to try and make sure no harm came to Tenko. He sighed and shrugged his tiny shoulders.  
"So, I see I'm not gonna talk you out of this. Well, I don't wanna get in a confrontation with these people, but I do have some contacts from my time behind bars who might be able to help you out. I'll see what I can do."

A few weeks before they broke into the empty flat, Ryuji met up with Makoto in a city centre coffee shop. It was Saturday morning, but even the coming of the weekend had failed to lift his mood. It didn't help that the place was Yarbucks, which didn't have much going for it as far as Ryuji was concerned. Bad American knock-off, freaking expensive and all the quirky personality of one of its own polystyrene cups.  
Ryuji ordered what you might call a coffee-adjacent drink. It had a fake French name "translated" into English which most Japanese people then mispronounced. Whatever else it was, he thought, this place was definitely not for real.  
"You know, one of the guys at work says this chain is only good for one thing - taking "yar bucks," he muttered to Makoto as they took their seats among the weekend crowd.  
"Your colleagues should really work on the quality of their banter, Ryuji," she replied.  
"Eh, if they want really good jokes, they should pay us what the comedians on TV get. Or at least give us as much spare time as you and your student buddies get to just sit around thinkin' stuff up. We're just workin' stiffs, Makoto."  
"I do not just sit around thinking stuff up...and what the hell's happened to your hair?"

Ryuji's mane was still spiky and gelled within an inch of its life, but no longer bottle blond. He sighed.  
"Ugh, the boss told me I had to stop dyeing it as a condition of getting the job. He says we work for lots of old people, and apparently some of them won't let you in their house if they think you look like a delinquent. Can you believe this bullshit? I mean, we're electricians and they need us to repair stuff for them. These people would rather sit around in the dark than deal with a guy who dyes his hair! Man, sometimes I wonder if the whole Phantom Thieves thing was worth the effort."  
Makoto sipped her espresso. "So, working life isn't agreeing with you."  
"Well, I didn't expect it to be as easy as non-workin' life. As currently enjoyed by certain former School Council presidents sittin' about a metre from me..."  
She decided not to take the bait this time. "But you are missing the old days?"  
"Well...yeah, to be honest, I am."  
"Good. Because if you are, I have a proposition for you."  
"You do?" Ryuji was suddenly bolt-upright in his chair, an eager gleam in his eyes.  
Makoto giggled. "I knew you'd react that way! God, Ryuji, you haven't got a subtle bone in your body, have you?"  
"Yo, lady, just get to the point and stop teasin' me!"

"OK, OK. I've heard from some of my dad's old police colleagues that they've come across several recent cases of extortion or violence against members of minorities. Chinese, Koreans, you name it. The name that keeps coming up in all of them is "The League of the Sacred Mirror." These thugs turn up at businesses and ask for money and if they don't get it, they turn nasty. Or sometimes, they don't ask for money - just turn up, racially abuse the owners and then attack them. They've already put several people in hospital and eventually someone's going to be killed.  
Ryuji swallowed some of his coffee-esque drink. "So can't the cops catch these guys?"  
"Well, that's the thing. The detectives I spoke to said their investigation had been hampered by the higher-ups in the police. They've come under pressure to come up with an easy answer to the cases and shut the investigation down, write it all off as local hooligans on the rampage or whatever."  
"I bet you, like, a week's salary the senior cops are covering up for someone powerful. Now that sounds like it would have been a case for the Phantom Thieves!"  
"Exactly. These thugs remind me of our old friend Kaneshiro and I don't want that sort of thing happening in my city again. But, the rest of the guys are busy at school or college, Ann's abroad with her parents and Joker tells me he can't walk down the street without a harem forming around him..."  
"You're not kiddin', I visited him for the weekend a few months back, and women just keep throwing themselves at him! They seem to expect him to be an unpaid therapist for all their personal problems."  
"...so for the moment, it'll just be you and me. Are you still interested?"  
"For real! This has got to be more interesting than work!"

Makoto smiled. "I hope so. We've got one real clue so far - the stupid name of this gang. Finish up your drink and we'll hit the internet for some research."  
"Oh...OK," said Ryuji, his enthusiasm a bit dampened. He missed being able to leave this sort of thing to Futaba.

A few days after his unexpected meeting with Meiling at Tenko and Himiko's place, Ryoma stood on the top of an empty suburban office block, as alone as Batman. It was midnight, dark and not really warm enough to explain how much he was sweating. But this meeting had taken a lot of phone calls to set up and it could go wrong very easily for any one of several reasons.  
He'd been very firm with Tenko and Himiko that neither of them could be there. He couldn't run the risk of Tenko taking offence at something and slugging the guy he was meeting. She'd still insisted on tagging along, of course, so at the moment she and Himiko were sitting in an all-night manga cafe nearby. He'd told them to come looking if he wasn't back by 12.30.

Most of the other customers were scruffy otakus who looked as if they rarely left home during the hours of daylight and rarely interacted with women who weren't fictional. Ryoma was half-convinced Tenko would end up thumping one or other of them for coming on to her or Himiko. Still, that would be preferable to having her freak out here.

He stood in a pool of light created by one of the spotlights positioned on the wall surrounding the roof, pacing up and down nervously. Suddenly, a voice came out of the shadows:-  
"Hoshi-san? I have to say, I was expecting someone taller."  
A tall, dark-suited young man with light hair and an unnerving smile stepped out of the darkness and bowed. Ryoma bowed back.  
"Well, I was expecting someone a bit older, so that makes two of us."  
The young man chuckled mirthlessly. "I guess it goes to show you shouldn't make assumptions. Seiji Amenome, at your service. I gotta say, short stuff, you've got some nerve asking to meet a Yakuza member, let alone a boss' son, after that stunt you pulled back in the day. You killed some of our own people."  
"I'd prefer to say I've got some balls, Amenome-san," replied Ryoma, calmly. "Or is that just what you're worried about? Anyway, I know your old man was a long-term rival of the Tokko clan, so you can spare me all that "men of honour" crap. I don't think any of your crew lost any sleep over several of your enemies being killed."

Amenome chuckled again. "It's a fair point. Still, by Yakuza rules I should probably never have agreed to meet."  
"But...you did. So maybe we can get down to business."  
"OK," said Amenome. "What do you want?"  
"Just some information, that's all. And I think you'll have it. After all, I hear you're known as "the Prince of Threats." I hope it isn't an empty title."  
"Hmmm...you seem a bit too well-informed about these things for someone who isn't even connected. Maybe I should make sure you leave this roof by the quickest route...unless you can make it worth my while to give you what you want?"  
Ryoma strained every nerve to look cool, calm and unflustered. Under the polite exterior, Amenome was just as nasty a piece of work as his sources had warned him, but if he sensed fear in Ryoma, this was over.

"I don't have any money for you, Amenome-san. But what I do have is the solution to a mutual problem. There are some guys going round trying to extort money from minority business owners. My friends and I want to stop them. Your clan makes money from extortion too, so those guys are your business rivals, or will be if you don't do something about them quickly. So what do you know about the League of the Sacred Mirror?"  
Amenome raised an eyebrow. "So - that's who you want to go after? Well, I know that you probably won't win, unless the friends you mention are Goku and Vegeta."  
Ryoma shrugged. "That's my problem, Amenome-san. What's there for you to lose? If they beat us, your clan isn't affected at all and you don't need to tell anyone. If we beat them, the clan's got rid of a rival and you can tell everyone that you're the clever guy who set it all up."  
Amenome's smile widened to a shark-like grin. "I guess so. In that case, I'll let you have what I know. The League of the Sacred Mirror is an extreme nationalist group that loves glorious Nihon and hates Chinese, Koreans, Westerners and pretty much everyone else. All the usual garbage about reviving the Japanese Empire and, for all I know, conquering the world. There are some politicians that are secretly sympathetic and, because we've also worked with those politicians in the past, the League used to hire members of our clan as security for their meetings. But they've stopped doing that recently. It seems as if they've put together their own crew of tough guys."

"So why are they extorting people all of a sudden?" asked Ryoma.  
"They must need money for something. Maybe political campaigns, maybe pay-offs to someone in government, maybe something even nastier. I don't know. If you want money, you might as well steal it from people you hate anyway."  
"Where can I find them?" asked Ryoma.  
Amenome handed him a business card with an address written on it. "That's their headquarters. But I warn you, short stuff, you're not going to get anything out of challenging the League but a broken head."  
"Thanks for your help, Amenome-san. Like I said, it's my problem from now on."  
"I'll keep an eye on the papers," said Amenome, turning and disappearing into the darkness. Ryoma half-expected him to leave behind a grin hanging in mid-air that would slowly fade away, like the Cheshire Cat.

When he got back to the manga cafe, he found Himiko sitting in the centre of a circle of otakus performing card tricks. She seemed to have them mesmerised, and Tenko was looking distinctly grumpy. Ryoma decided they had better get out of there while the getting was good.  
"OK, job's done. Shall we go? I'll fill you in on the details on the way back."

They left, but not without some protest from both the performer and her audience.  
"Nyeh...I was just getting warmed up!" expostulated Himiko.  
"She's like a real-life Hermione Granger!" said one otaku dreamily, gazing raptly at her through his thick spectacles.  
"Sorry guys, the show's over now," announced Ryoma. "Er...she has got a ViewTube channel, though!"  
"Nyeh...I have?" said Himiko, as Ryoma bundled the girls out.  
"I mean, this is 20XX - who hasn't?" said Ryoma. "Don't forget to like and subscribe!"

"You know another thing I can't stand? People asking me if I want to "come with". It's not "come with", it's "come with me", or "come with us", or whatever! That phrase needs a pronoun in it!"

Ryuji looked at Makoto as though she'd just announced that she'd been sent by the Beast with Seven Heads to start the Apocalypse.  
"For real? Ugh, Makoto, why do you gotta be so goddamn pedantic sometimes? Especially when we got other stuff to be gettin' on with!"  
The two were hunched over a desk with a grey formica top on which sat one of the Central Library's public access computers. Exams were looming and the third floor of the Library was busy with high school kids. Some who were desperate to get internet access were shooting dirty looks in Ryuji and Makoto's direction. Makoto ignored them; she thought public libraries were a place you went to avoid studying. Those kids probably just wanted to get on Instantgram.  
"Caring about accuracy isn't being pedantic! Anyway, it doesn't look as if the League of the Sacred Mirror has a website. Which is pretty weird nowadays."

Ryuji shrugged. "Yeah, well...they intimidate dudes into paying 'em money for a livin'. They wouldn't exactly want to draw everyone's attention to that."  
"You'd be amazed how many organised criminals get arrested nowadays because they insisted on posting videos of themselves brandishing guns and making death threats on ViewTube...Hold on, though, it does look like there's plenty of search results for "Sacred Mirror."  
"Well, lots of shrines have a sacred mirror...it don't mean a lot."  
Makoto stabbed her finger at the black characters on the glaring white of the computer screen.  
"Hold on a minute, though, Ryuji! What about this blog? It's called "The Sacred Mirror"."  
"Aw, man, do we gotta read this now? It's probably just some religious nut ramblin' on for pages and makin' no sense at all. I once found one by a guy who believed that a winged monster was goin' to descend from the Moon next 31st January an' destroy the world. What a loony!"

Makoto shook her head as she scrolled through the blog. "This isn't a cult blog, though. It looks more like the work of a fanatical nationalist. The guy wants to restore the Emperor to absolute power, get rid of "American imperialism in the Pacific" and replace it with Japanese imperialism. And he really doesn't like the Koreans or the Chinese."

Ryuji still didn't get what made this particular blogger important. "There's a million people out there who believe stuff like that, Makoto. It doesn't mean they run a protection racket. They're just soundin' off on the internet."  
"Well, maybe, but not only does this guy call his blog "The Sacred Mirror", he also seems interested in recruiting street thugs to his cause. Look!"  
She pointed to a passage in which the blogger appealed to "those of our national brothers who have been excluded from legitimate society by the current system, and forced into a life of crime" to "join our patriotic struggle against those who created that system".  
Ryuji shook his head. It all sounded like a long shot to him, even if the blogger's rhetoric sounded like the things a man who liked extorting money from minority groups would say. But it was the best lead they had right now.< /p>

"So what's this guy's name?" asked Ryuji.  
"He calls himself Tetsuo Kobayashi," said Makoto. "And he's even got his photo on the blog - look here. Of course, neither might be real, but it's a place to start."  
"So let's see if we can find out more about him."

The group who Tenko had taken to calling "The Avengers", in spite of Ryoma's objection that this was ridiculously cheesy, gathered in Tenko and Himiko's living room. Meiling was insistent on coming to the League of the Sacred Mirror's headquarters with everyone else. Ryoma was reluctant. He knew Tenko could handle herself in a fight, and Himiko would come because Tenko would never leave her behind. He wasn't so sure about a third girl. Come to think of it, he wondered, what on earth am I doing getting into a situation like this again?

"This is almost certainly going to end up turning violent," he warned Meiling. "If we try asking these guys nicely to give up what they're doing, they'll just laugh in our faces."  
"I hold black belts in karate, judo and aikido, Hoshi-san," said Meiling, indignantly. "And anyway, this thing is far more my business than yours. My family's the injured party. You said you didn't even want to confront these people. How can you possibly deny me the right to be there?"  
There was a long, awkward, silence. Finally, Ryoma chuckled.

"Heh, I guess you're right, Li-san. It is your business and it sounds like you can deal with a fight if it comes to having one. I'm sorry I underestimated you. As for me, well..." He fell silent.  
"Nyeh...come on Ryoma, don't you dare make a big speech about your motivations at us right now!" cried Himiko. "I can hear it coming from a mile off! Just come with us, or don't!"  
Ryoma shrugged. "Sheesh, what a moment killer! OK, would you accept that I hate the idea of the bad guys winning more than I fear going back to jail?"  
"Good - nice and concise!" said Tenko. "Well, if we've settled all that, we should be heading off."  
"We can take my car," said Ryoma.  
"Wait, you have a car?" replied Tenko. "You've never mentioned that before!"  
"I don't normally need to use it around Tokyo," shrugged Ryoma. "I keep it in a rented garage near my place. But I bought it with me today. After all, we can't make a fast getaway on the subway."  
"Right!" said Tenko. "In which case. let's get moving!" She jumped up from the couch to head for the door.

"Nyeh...hold on a minute!" said Himiko.  
"Oh my God, what is it now?" cried Tenko, her hands on her hips. Himiko blushed and looked down at the floor.  
"Well, I'm just curious...please don't take this the wrong way, Ryoma, but at your height, how do you even manage to drive a car?"  
"Oh, I get that a lot," said Ryoma, a little wearily. "It's specially adapted. The pedals are extended so my feet can reach them and the steering wheel's also set lower than usual and on a longer column. I spent the last of my tennis earnings on it after I get out of jail."  
"Anything else you have a burning desire to get an answer to?" asked Tenko, glaring at Himiko. The mage shook her head. "OK then, let's finally get out there and do what we have to do!"  
This time, they all managed to get out of the flat.

When your master plan boils down to "beating up the bad guys to exact revenge," you can't really say a fight breaking out within moments of you meeting said bad guys amounts to the plan failing. What happened outside the League of the Sacred Mirror's headquarters on the morning when the two groups that had been investigating them finally met was, rather, a plan that went horribly right.

The Avengers sat in Ryoma's car on a narrow side-street just off the already narrow street on which the headquarters stood, in an area of warehouses and light industrial units with few residents. There was almost no-one else around. The headquarters wasn't really up to international supervillain standards - just a door in the concrete wall of a square two-storey building which had no windows on that side. Beside the door was a small brass plaque which laconically stated "Members' Club."  
"OK, everyone," said Ryoma. "Now remember, let's not just go charging in. There are more of them than us. We have to be a bit cautious about this."  
As they watched, two large sedans rolled slowly down the street and up to the mysterious door. They stopped, and a group of men got out, mostly large men in dark suits and dark glasses, surrounding a tall man in a grey suit.  
"Those look like our guys!" said Ryoma.  
"EEEEAAAAAIIIIII!" screamed Tenko, pretty much out of nowhere. Then she opened a rear passenger door, jumped out and started running towards the men on the pavement opposite, continuing to yell war cries at the top of her voice. They spun around to face her and took up defensive stances.  
"Wait! Chabashira-san!" shouted Ryoma. "Ah, dammit, so much for being cautious, I suppose! Come on, everyone, let's cream these bastards!"

They all scrambled out of the car and followed Tenko. She had already reached the nearest League member, ducked under his punch and karate-chopped him in the throat. He keeled over immediately, as Tenko bellowed "Degenerate males! This is for beating up helpless shopkeepers!"  
"Shit, it must be the Reds again!" shouted another goon. "Blades out, boys!" They all drew knives and swords, as the door flew open and the grey-suited man was hustled inside. Several more thugs then spilled out of it to join their colleagues on the pavement.  
One took a swing at Meiling with his katana, but she dodged the blade, stepped to one side and kicked his ankles out from under him. Meanwhile, Tenko was piling into the rest of the gang, evading sword cuts and knife thrusts as she punched, kicked and chopped.  
"But the numbers are still on their side, and they're armed!" thought Ryoma as he ran up. "Tenko and Meiling can only fight them for so long. Time for technology to make a difference!"

As he came to a halt at the kerb, he raised to one shoulder a long metal tube with a hand grip he had brought with him from the car. One end connected to a plastic tube that ran into the backpack Ryoma was wearing.  
"Fuck me, that midget's got a bazooka!" yelled one of the thugs.  
"Not quite!" shouted Ryoma."Chabashira-san! Li-san! Get your heads down! I call this little baby "Leon"!"

He pulled a switch and, with a series of muffled pops, the tube began spitting out a stream of tennis balls at incredible speed. They smashed into faces, groins and stomachs, they smacked into walls and then ricocheted off them into the backs of heads twice as hard. Thugs crashed to the ground with cries of "Aah! Ow! Aaiiieee!" and the whole street temporarily resounded to the thud of ball on human being like a tennis court with Novak Djokovic at one end.  
Tenko and Meiling had hit the deck as soon as they heard Ryoma's warning. Once the hail of green fuzzy pain had ended, they got back to their feet, rolled up their sleeves, and punched out the lights of anyone left standing.

Himiko trotted up, panting. "Nyeh...did I miss the whole fight? What a pain!"  
Ryoma turned to her. "Well...you are a mage, Himiko, not a fighter."  
"But I was going to try throwing cards in their faces...it always works in anime," pouted Himiko. "Nyeh...I don't even have enough mana for a healing spell."

Before Ryoma could reply, they heard the roar of an engine and a slick looking Yamaha pulled up beside them. The two riders pulled off their helmets, revealing themselves as a slim, dark-haired girl and a guy with a spiky haircut and a bellicose look. He promptly jumped off the machine.  
"Who the hell are you guys?" he demanded.  
"Nyeh...how rude!" retorted Himiko. "We could ask the same!"  
"No, you don't understand," said the girl. "We're on your side. We've been investigating the League of the Sacred Mirror ourselves. It's just we...hadn't quite planned doing something as drastic as this!"  
"Oh, well," said Tenko, cheerfully. "Looks like we got in there first. Mission accomplished!"  
"Wait, though - where's Kobayashi?" asked the spiky-haired man.  
"Koba-who now?" said Ryoma.  
Suddenly, they heard a door being thrown open on the other side of the building with a crash and spotted the man in the grey suit running away up a side-street diagonally opposite them.

"Ah, crap, he's gettin' away!" shouted the spiky-haired man.  
"Not if I have anything to do with it!" replied the girl. "Get back on the bike, Ryuji!"

Makoto revved the engine and sent her machine flying down the street after the fleeing Kobayashi. It was narrow, obstructed with trash cans, parked vehicles and miscellaneous junk, and she had to swerve from side to side to make any progress forward.  
"This is like a scene in those awful action movies Haru likes!" she thought. "Still, even if he's Usain Bolt in disguise, Kobayashi can't outrun a bike for long!"  
It seemed he had come to the same conclusion. Still some way ahead of the bike, Kobayashi suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and turned to face it. Glaring icily at his pursuers, he reached into his pocket for something.

"Shit! He's going for a gun!" thought Makoto. "Better hang on back there, Ryuji!" She threw the bike into a violent swerve that nearly threw both of them off the saddle, as Ryuji gave a muffled yelp and gripped Makoto's waist so tightly, it hurt. Her manoeuvre worked, though. Kobayashi's pistol emitted a series of loud cracks, but the bullets flew through the space where the bike had been, not where it now was. And the few seconds' delay was enough for it to cover most of the tarmac between them and their target.

Kobayashi turned to run, but it was too late. As Makoto roared past him on the bike, Ryuji released his grip on her waist, swung across to a side-saddle position and leapt off the bike on to the fleeing man. The pair hit the ground with a heavy thump and muffled cursing. Kobayashi's gun went flying when his hand struck the tarmac.  
He wasn't quite finished yet, though. Bruised and battered, he wriggled free from Ryuji's grip and got to his feet.  
"Come on, you little punk!" he yelled, raising his fists. "Let's see how good you are without your friend!"  
Without further ado, Ryuji stood up, blocked Kobayashi's right hook with his left and jabbed his own left fist straight into his opponents' face. It flattened Kobayashi's nose with a crunch of gristle. Fists clenched, the two men stood their ground, raining well-targeted punches on each other. Even though Kobayashi was hampered because Ryuji's helmet protected his head from Kobayashi's punches, not to mention because his nose was broken, he didn't let up.

Well, until Makoto, who had parked the bike a little down the road, strolled up behind him and smacked him on the back of the head with a blackjack, that is. With a grunt, Kobayashi collapsed to the ground as if pole-axed.  
"Hey, I was just gettin' the better of him!" objected Ryuji.  
Makoto shrugged. "It's not a boxing match! We needed him down and out as soon as possible, before he could get hold of that gun again."

Ryoma and Tenko, who had been pursuing the bike on foot, ran up, breathless.  
"Sheesh...looks like we arrived too late!" said Ryoma.  
"Never mind that!" said Tenko. "I think you two have some explaining to do!"  
"I'd say you do as well," replied Makoto.  
"Well, I've brought some rope," said Ryoma. "We can do that once we've tied this guy up and taken him back to their headquarters. Himiko and Meiling are tying up his buddies and moving them inside before anyone wanders into the scene."

By the time all the captured members of the League of the Sacred Mirror were bound and gagged in their own basement, all introductions had been made and everything had been pretty thoroughly explained to everyone. Himiko and Meiling got very excited about meeting members of the infamous Phantom Thieves and wanted to take selfies with them, until Ryoma pointed out that those would make great evidence of the multiple assaults and burglary they had just committed.

But what should they do with their captives?

"We need to call the police," said Makoto.  
"That's no good - we've got no evidence they committed any of the attacks," said Meiling. "And besides, we think the police are protecting them."  
"And, like I just said, if we're still around when the police turn up they'll probably arrest us too," added Ryoma.

Kobayashi was conscious again, but not responding to any questions.  
"Nyeh...we need them to confess," said Himiko.  
"Well, we can't make them," said Ryoma. "It's a pity you two aren't in the business of stealing hearts any more."  
"So what the hell do we do?" asked Ryuji.  
"I'm going to phone a friend," said Ryoma.

This time, when Amenome turned up, he was accompanied by a couple of thick-necked heavies from his clan.  
"You'd think that the older you get, the more independence you'd have, but now I'm a full member Dad insists I need bodyguards," he sighed. He was impressed by the sight of the tied up League members, though.  
"You managed all this with only one other guy?" he asked Ryoma. "Hmmm...are you sure you don't fancy working for us? We could probably use your... talents?"  
"Hey, what's with "you managed all this"!" complained Tenko. "Two of the girls here are expert martial artists and we did a lot of the fighting!"  
Amenome eyed Tenko and grinned his sharkish grin. "I'm sure you did, Miss, but I'm afraid our clan doesn't admit women. Sorry to disappoint you."  
"Amenome-san," said Ryoma, moving things hastily on before Tenko could pitch a fit. "I need your help again. We need evidence against these men before we can involve the police. We need them to admit what they've done."  
Amenome idly twiddled a pen in his fingers. "You've already beaten them up - just keep beating them up until they confess."  
"Nah, that ain't the way we work, pal," interjected Ryuji.  
"Hey, aren't you one of Jun Tomoda's electricians? Say hello to your boss for me - he owes us a lot of money from gambling, you know. Anyway, Sparky, why can't you just plug in a cable and run a household current through these guys' balls? That'll make them talk alright."  
"Amenome-san," Ryoma again said hastily, before Ryuji could pitch a fit. "I was hoping you might be able to persuade our prisoners to talk by less violent means. If they think they've been captured by the Yakuza, maybe they'll talk."

Amenome shrugged. "Well, I'll see what I can do." He strolled down the concrete steps to the basement, followed by his bodyguards and then everyone else. Then, at the bottom of the steps, he suddenly stopped and began to chuckle.  
"Nyeh...what's so funny?" demanded Himiko.  
"Well, I wasn't expecting to see him," said Amenome, pointing towards Kobayashi, who was on the floor still struggling against his gag and bonds. Amenome walked across, stood next to him and pulled off the gag. "How are you doing, Takeshi-san?"  
"Go to hell, you blackmailing little prick!" spat back Kobayashi.  
"Wait...you actually know him?" asked Ryoma.  
"Yeah, I do. Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce Ryu Takeshi, former major in the Japanese Self-Defence Forces and currently an agent of the national intelligence agency."  
"So he's not a nationalist blogger...he's a spy?" said Makoto.

"Absolutely. We once helped smuggle him and a colleague into Manchuria so they could spy on Chinese supply convoys into North Korea. You won't believe how difficult that was, but it bought the clan two years of official non-interference with our drug dealing operations, so it was completely worth it."  
"So...the government was behind the League of the Sacred Mirror all along? For real?" said Ryuji.  
Takeshi sighed. "Well, I guess after this screw up my intelligence career is basically over anyway, so there's no point keeping quiet. Yes, this was an intelligence operation. We wanted to set up an organisation to serve as the nucleus of a guerilla force to fight behind enemy lines if Japan were ever invaded. We thought a bunch of right-wing nationalists would make ideal recruits. They already hate the countries most likely to invade and they're into violence."  
"An intelligence operation?" cried Meiling. "Then why were they running around the city terrorising innocent shopkeepers?"

Takeshi shrugged, as far as that was possible whilst tied up and lying on his back.  
"These guys are right-wing street thugs. We had to let them do a certain amount of street thuggery so they would accept this was a legitimate nationalist organisation. They would never have just signed up to an extension of the JSDF. Plus, we couldn't have them becoming suspicious about how the group was being funded."  
"This is unbelievable!" said Meiling.  
"Honestly, after the Shido affair, I don't think anything the government does can shock me any more," said Makoto, wearily. She turned off the video camera on her phone that she had switched on once Takeshi began to talk. "Well, at least we have evidence now."  
"Some guerrillas you lot would have been!" chipped in Tenko. "I mean, you got taken out by two female martial artists and a short guy with a tennis ball firing machine!"  
"Honestly, it's a fair point," said Takeshi.

Amenome turned to Ryoma. "Hoshi-san, I think it's my turn to politely request something from you. Please don't involve the police in this. If you do, the government will just use Takeshi as a scapegoat. They'll say he went beyond his orders and blame everything on him. There'll be a cover-up. But if we let the politicians know directly that we can go to the media with this story, we can more or less dictate our terms to them."  
"We'll want compensation and an apology to the victims' families," said Ryoma.  
"And everyone involved in this conspiracy should lose their jobs at least!" added Meiling.

Amenone grinned again. "I'll make sure that gets mentioned, but personally, I'm hoping for another guarantee of non-interference by the government in the Amenome clan's operations. This time, all of them - and not just for two years."  
"No - hold on," said Makoto, with a confused look on her face. "I didn't get involved in this so that some Yakuza family could blackmail the government into giving it the freedom to commit crimes. That's the complete opposite of what we wanted!"

"Is it?" said Amenome, and smiled again. He looked down the line of people facing him across the basement. "Then I guess this is where you guys get to make a choice about how this ends. Are you going to play by the rules and maybe get screwed over by them or are you going to risk breaking them and getting what you want?"  
"Oh no, not this again!" groaned Himiko.  
"You might say," went on Amenome, with a careless gesture of his hand, "that it's time for you to prove your justice."


End file.
